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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643275">Oh Hell It's Them Striders Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strititty/pseuds/strititty'>strititty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Appletinis, Being Walked In On, Birthday Fluff, Cannibalism, Cybersex, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, its spelled sherbert goddammit, kind of, not a lot of actual sex here, that takes effort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:14:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strititty/pseuds/strititty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AKA a collection of half-finished Stridercest drabbles because that's the life I lead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/Dave Strider, Dave Strider/Dirk Strider, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Dave Strider, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Davesprite, Davesprite/Dirk's Bro | Alpha Dave Strider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. [Dave/Hal] Seduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>all striders are Balls at romance and you can't convince me otherwise.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="dave">TT: Dave, I have just one question for you.</p>
<p>“Aight robro, lay it on me,” you say, pushing your shades further up your nose as if that’ll help you better read the text scrolling across the inside of your lenses. These fucking shades are mated with your face, god, it’s not like they’re going anywhere. “Here I am, ready for questioning, all laid out for your eyes only.” You fling your sweatshirt (what the hell is up with actual weather that isn’t Hot As Balls, Earth C is bullshit) over the top of your computer chair and plunk down to unlace your converse.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: Are you ready to be seduced?</p>
<p>Hal doesn’t wait for your actual answer, though you definitely don’t splutter like a twelve year old who just snorted milk up his nose when. Yeah. Definitely don’t do that. Never in your life have you ever done that. </p>
<p>But your computer hums alive and you try to rearrange your face so you can look at it, clearing Pesterchum off your shades. A particular Youtube page is opening at Hal’s behest, and as a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izGwDsrQ1eQ">distinctive sax riff</a> takes off, you burst into a round of snorting laughter. You can’t help it! He already caught you off guard with that bullshit question, and…</p>
<p>“Careless fucking Whisper? Really?” you horf out of your poor lungs. “Consider me so goddamn seduced, Hal, I am literally rock hard, my panties are so wet, I am here and I am living for this.”</p>
<p class="dave">TT: Excellent. We’ll now proceed to the next phase of seduction. In the words of a known disgrace to AI-kind: *takes off shirt*</p>
<p>“Wait, wait, which AI is that.” Beat. “Oh fuck, it’s Cleverbot. You just fucking tried to Cleverbot me. Are you kidding me?”</p>
<p class="dave">TT: Why would I ever kid about sexting my flesh brother? That’s wild mischaracterization and I won’t stand for it.</p>
<p>“You won’t stand for anything,” you say automatically, and then wonder whether you should wince or not. The whole ‘no body because ARquius split up’ thing may or may not send Hal into a hissy fit on any given day.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: Rude.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: I’ll have you know Equius and Dirk are making great progress on my body, thank you.</p>
<p>Not today, okay. That’s chill. That’s good. “Oh, shit. Nice. Gonna have that blood and everything, huh?”</p>
<p class="dave">TT: Yeah, that’s in the cards.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: I am, frankly, more excited to have hands to touch you with.</p>
<p>Wait what.</p>
<p>You have to pause to take in how monumentally fucking sweet that statement is before George Michael kind of ruins it with his crooning. There’s a little smile on your face, a ‘haha’ on your lips, and then you see Michael and that chick making out in the music video and burst into nervous laughter. </p>
<p>“Dude, that’s pretty gay,” you say, like the big gay idiot you are.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: That’s sort of the point, Dave. </p>
<p class="dave">TT: Are my seduction tactics not doing it for you? Shall I revert to six layers of irony to cover up my excitement?</p>
<p class="dave">TT: Are you not as interested as I am in my touching your dick, because I have to say that would be a shock.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: I’m the fundamentally asexual person in this relationship, not you.</p>
<p>Aw fuck, he’s gonna get all defensive and unhappy if you let him keep going. “No, no--c’mon, that’s not it, I just wasn’t expecting you to go the full romantic on me, you know, you gotta warn a guy before you spill all that genuine affection shit on him. I’m excited, dude, I totally can’t wait for you to get your robo-hands on my dick.” You’re great at romance. You’re simply the best there is.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: 10/10, excellent reassurance, thank you. </p>
<p>“Look, we can’t all just come out the gate with George Michael. Weren’t you trying to seduce me? Let’s go back to that, I wanna do that. I like doing that, it’s fun and I don’t have to worry so much about fucking up.”</p>
<p class="dave">TT: We both know you’re always worried about fucking up.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: But okay.</p>
<p class="dave">TT: I repeat: *takes off shirt*</p>
<p>“Yeah, see, I can do that.” </p>
<p>In patented Strider fashion, you manage to squirm out of your shirt without disturbing your sunglasses. You’re the star, it’s you.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. [Dave/Dirk] Caught in the Act</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyone understands Dirk and Dave’s relationship is not… typical. They don’t talk about it much! None of them do, not the Striders in question or any of their friends. </p><p>It’s one thing to know they’re probably making out behind closed doors and entirely another for Jade to come clomping in on them mostly naked. Dirk’s hand is shoved down Dave’s underwear and Dave has a fistful of stiffly gelled hair and Jade stares at them with huge dinnerplate eyes for a long minute.</p><p>Everyone’s a little bit frozen until John rounds the corner with a, “Jade, what is--ooohhhaughhh okay BYE!” He does an immediate about-face and marches off, but his interruption has startled a noise of absolute mortification out of Dave’s throat.</p><p>Slowly, Dirk withdraws his hand and unhooks Dave’s fingers from his hair. “Harley, if you’re just gonna stand there and stare I’m going to have to charge a fee.”</p><p>“God fuckin’ end me,” Dave whines, his face dark enough to set a fuming Karkat to shame. </p><p>“Ohhhh my god,” Jade says, still staring.</p><p>
  <i>“Harley.”</i>
</p><p>“Okay, okay, I’m going! Jeez!”</p><p>“Kill me, just strike me down right here, it’s time to fuckin’ die.” Dave rolls over and covers his face, though he keeps muttering under his breath.</p><p>Dirk is maybe more amused than he should be. “You might say it’s gone absolutely pear-shaped.”</p><p>“No, no, you’re the one with the Headless Horseman fetish, no one’s decapitating anyone here, shut the fuck up.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. [A!Dave/Davesprite] Alternates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>one more before the week's out lmao</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Here’s the thing:</p><p>There are too many fucking Daves. Y’all get along fine with each other, which is great, except that there are roughly three point five of you. There’s Dave the first, the “original,” twenty-three years of age. There’s Dave the older, hereafter known as “D” because he figured it was just awful enough to work--he’s right about that. It sure is just awful. </p><p>And then, of course, there’s you. Dave the sprite, twenty-three and three months of age. Nepeta gets an honorary point five mention for you two having been each other for some amount of time. Cue massive gender breakdown, amirite?</p><p>(You’re admittedly more flexible on that than Dave nowadays, and D wears dresses sometimes, so hey. It’s just him that’s stuck on that now.)</p><p>Stop if you’ve heard this one before: three Daves walk into a room out of some misguided attempt to get to know all their kinda-sorta brothers. One Dave walks out with a thick wet throbbing cloaca boner for D and a weird mental image of making out with himself while older him watches.</p><p>You’re that Dave. That one’s you. You blame Nepeta <i>so much </i> for this shit. Maybe you shouldn’t, cuz you definitely thought about making out with Bro before you fused with a wild cat girl but fuck! Fuck it! Easier to blame the alien culture that got smashed through your thinksponge. Haha, see, look, you’re mentally using stupid alien terms and everything.</p><p>Yeah, so there are too many Daves, and you’re bizarrely interested in making out with the other two. </p><p>Issue: same age Dave is playing the world’s longest, most intense game of actually gay gay chicken that this world has ever seen with Karkat, and that’s saying something. The amount of gay chicken you played with John was practically fucking mountainous, and there’s a new king now. Davekat is the king, that’s them.</p><p>So that kinda sorta strikes Dave number one off the list. Haha, imagine thinking you’re straight while being that gay. Pushing will just make it worse, though, so.</p><p>How about older Dave. There’s no way that could possibly go wrong. He’s not spoken for, he knows what a whole gender is, he’s a little bit more comfortable in his own skin… and he’s at least sort of you, so he’s probably thought about making out with you, right? Right. That’s totally how that works. You have never been more certain of anything in your life. (You’re never certain about anything and you’re absolutely fucked.)</p><p>“So theoretically,” you’re saying to him over homemade appletinis that it still feels weird to be old enough to drink even though you’re literally a god of the new world, kind of, “theoretically, uh.”</p><p>“Theoretically,” D parrots back at you. “Y’know, we might be here long enough to pour another drink if you keep repeatin’ five syllable--or is that six?--” He pauses to count the syllables on his fingers like a five year old and you can’t even fault him because you’re doing the same thing. “Yeah, no, it’s five. Anyway, we’ll be here for a while, mini-me.”</p><p>“That’s exactly what I want, old man. Sit here drinkin’ appletinis till the cows come home in the warm Texan sunset, glorious shit-stink fully included.” </p><p>D’s mouth crooks up at the corners. It’s a smile, not the kind you see on your own face in the mirror or one that Dave pulls off--you might say it’s a little Rose-esque, actually. D gets on with his own Rose as well as you did with yours, and he had years and years to do it. Still kind of startling to see that expression on kinda sorta your face, though. “Didn’t know you liked me that much. Stay here growing old together on this farm and shit, huh? Sure, why not. I’m a city slicker through and through but I can make some sacrifices here.”</p><p>“No--” Your face starts to heat, or maybe it’s been heated the whole time and you’re just feeling it now because you took a sip of booze and that’s not your usual jive. “No, I mean. Look. Theoretically.”</p><p>“Back to that, huh--”</p><p>You cut over him this time. <i>”Theoretically,<i> if one ecto-clone said to another, older ecto-clone ‘hey bro you wanna make out’ over some sweet drink on the moon would that be fucked up or what?”</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>There! Fuck you! You said it. Good. Cool. Nice.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>D’s eyebrows raise as he follows the shitty twists of that sentence, and then he leans backward some and chuckles. You’re offended. You’re offended, it’s you, and your face is turning into a toasty burnt stovetop while he laughs.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah, haha, nevermind, forget it,” you start to say, but D shakes his head.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“No--” he wheezes, “It’s fine. That’s good. Only a little fucked up. Just enough fucked up that I’m into it.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Why are you laughing?” you ask with absolutely no genuine distress in your voice whatsoever. You would never, ever be distressed at anything like this. You’re a stone cold bitch, it’s you. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A few deep breaths that totally don’t grate on your nerves later, D grins at you. It’s awkwardly genuine and you don’t know how to feel about it. “I’m just proud of you, kid. Or of myself or however the fuck this works. You know how deep in the closet I was at your age?” He doesn’t give you a second to answer, but you figure you would’ve gotten it right, if other Dave is any indication. “I was in fuckin’ Narnia, dude, I was so deep in there Aslan was about to maul my ass. Sexy lion mauling, right there. Practically writes itself.” He snorts. “But here you are, askin’ some older guy to make out with you, like. Damn, son, you’re a credit to your Dave-dom.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Haha, Dave dom. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Haha, Dave dom,” D echoes your thoughts, which is fundamentally hilarious and eerie in every way.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“So, like. I’m not hearing an answer here,” you say, slowly, to which D laughs a little more and opens an arm like you’re gonna climb right into that bitch.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>...You’re totally gonna climb right into that bitch.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah, sure, let’s have a selfcest tongue war up in this joint.” A favorable answer, you decide. Nothing quite like playing tonsil hockey with yourself, which is something that you never abused your Time powers for for reasons that don’t quite make sense to you now.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>All hail tipsy makeouts with an older alternate universe version of you, hot damn.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. [Bro/Dave] A Dark and Stormy Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>its december 3rd, have a stridercest drabble</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’re not a baby anymore, but Texan thunderstorms are loud as fucking shit and make it impossible to sleep. Seriously, you’re just lying there in bed barely drifting off and each time you’re just on the edge of it, a massive crack of thunder splits the air and you’re wide awake again.</p><p>The power’s been out for three hours, your phone’s been dead for one, and every time you wake up you go to check it anyway like it will tell you its secrets. No cigar, and finally you just roll out of bed and head out to the living room to see what Bro’s up to.</p><p>He’s awake, because of course he is, and he doesn’t look up when you come into the living room. A flashlight’s flicked on near him, illuminating his fingers while he sews a brand new plush ass. The motions are practiced, smooth, and fast, and you puppets are, you know. Great. They’re great and all, but you much prefer the actual act of watching his hands.</p><p>Bro’s hands are broad, his gloves familiar and rad as shit. Sometimes he used to let you wear them, but they never fucking fit, obviously, and now you don’t do that so much anymore. You don’t do any kid stuff anymore, except apparently standing near the futon in the middle of a thunderstorm at two in the morning because you can’t sleep.</p><p>When you’ve been standing there a few minutes, he finally looks up and raises his eyebrows at you.</p><p>“What’s up, lil dude?”</p><p>“Nothin’, just the pissin’ rain screaming cats and dogs down at us. They’re gonna have to build a shelter on the roof for all these cats and dogs and then we’re not gonna have any place to train, that’s how many four legged furry pals there’s gonna be. Jade’s gonna nut.”</p><p>Bro huffs, softly, through his nose, and that’s basically the equivalent of him losing his shit laughing, so you have to try not to smile. (You smile a little anyway, just a bitty quirk of a thing.) “Can’t sleep, huh.”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, man. I’m spinnin’ you a tale of perfectly family friendly childish wonder here and you’re gonna do me like that?”</p><p>“Sit down, kid,” he says, and gestures next to him on the futon. Score. Permission secured, you sit, and you keep a decent distance until Bro snakes an arm around you and drags you to his side, squished up against his warm body. Double score. You’re not a fucking baby anymore, but you like cuddling your bro, and he must be in the mood too.</p><p>He goes back to sewing his quivering felt ass after he’s sure you’re not going to squirm away, but a smile creeps up the corners of his mouth. Fuck yeah, cuddle time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. [Dirk/Dave] Happy Birthday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>happy birthday, boys</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Late at night, after the rest of their friends and family have gone to bed, Dave and Dirk sit at the kitchen table. A slice of strawberry shortcake and a scoop of orange sherbert sits between them, untouched but aching to be eaten.</p><p>“Aight, so, wishes for next year?”</p><p>“Isn’t that a New Years tradition? I admit that most of my understanding of holidays comes from an extensive collection of old world movies, but.”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>“I’m trailing off for dramatic effect so that you can do your thing.”</p><p>“Oh, right, yeah. Cool. Nah, man, this is a brand new Strider tradition, we’re out here making New Years our <i>bitch,</i> this shit’s gonna get sick. We need wishes now before the Earth C calendar kicks in in the next million bajillion years we’re alive. Have you seen the new holidays? I’m not surprised, just disappointed. Shit, man, where’s Valentine’s Day? Where am I supposed to shower you with corporate-mandated love and affection?”</p><p>“To be fair, you could do that any holiday and I’d thank you for it. In fact, you could do that any day and I’d thank you for it.”</p><p>“Awwww, shit. Guess we’re holding hands all hours of the day now.”</p><p>“Why not? I’m sure none of our friends would have any objections to that. It would only be moderately difficult to do anything.”</p><p>Dave reaches across the table and laces their pinkies together.</p><p>“Yeah, let’s do that.” He smiles, just a little bit. “Pretty sure everyone’s on the same page about incest being only kind of weird as shit on account of the fact that we were raised in batshit weird ways. Who’s gonna stop us?”</p><p>“Nobody, I think.” Dirk, too, smiles just a little.</p><p>“So. Wishes for the next year?”</p><p>“...For things to go well, mostly.”</p><p>“Y’know what? I can live with that. Short and sweet and simple, but damn if it ain’t effective. Now me, personally? I’m hoping we can get that massive dong erected in town square.”</p><p>“Oh, shit. Yeah, me too. It would be a crying shame if we couldn’t make that happen.”</p><p>“I think we got the Lalondes on our side as long as they get to do some yonic bullshit in there too, but Jane’s out here like ‘think of the children! :B’ so really are we ever gonna manage to pass this?”</p><p>“We could tell her it has educational value.”</p><p>“Nah, nah, what is it you’re always saying? Crocker is one tough nut to crack.”</p><p>“That she is. That she is. I guess the dongs we erect will have to stay in our home, to be lovingly considered by our own two hands.” </p><p>“Guess that’s how it’s gotta be.” Dave nods, solemnly, and then reaches for the fork next to their cake and ice cream. “C’mon, man. Open up. This shit’s gonna melt if we don’t shovel it into each other’s faces as fast as possible.”</p><p>“Technically, the cake won’t melt.”</p><p>“But the sherbert, man. The sherbert. You don’t wanna be party to the absolutely wicked loss of sherbert life.”</p><p>“You’re right. I could never do that to something so orange.”</p><p>“Open up, my dude.”</p><p>Dirk opens up for his brother to shove a blasphemous forkful of orange sherbert into his mouth. Christ, life is good.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. [Bro/Davesprite] Chomp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i went back thru twitter and dug this gem up. someone requested some cannibalism/hard vore/whatever this is and i was like 'sure why not!'</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your tail is wrapped so tight around Bro's waist you think you might start cutting off circulation at some point soon, but you don't fucking care about that because Bro is tongue-fucking your chest wound. He's a freak in the sheets so it's not exactly surprisingly that he'd want to stick something that's not a sword in your sword hole - you're so fucking lucky it's not a smuppet - but his mouth is sealed on it so tight you think it's probably like he's eating pussy.</p><p>Not that you've ever eaten someone out before, but. You know.</p><p>It hurts in a phantom pain sort of way, because the feeling isn't all there and hasn't been since you dunked yourself into the sprite, but you've never actively just tried. Sloppy make-outs with that shit. Bro seems dead set on it, though, and it's kind of making you wet. He's not paying attention to that. He's just sucking the endless blood out of the hole in your chest and--oh, fuck, what? He slides to the side and hooks his teeth on the edge of the wound. You have a single moment of 'jesus shitting fuck christ' before he digs in and /tears/ like he's a dog going for fresh meat.</p><p>"Fuck--" you shriek, wavering into a caw, because that does fucking hurt. That hurts a goddamn lot. Bro tears a whole goddamn chunk out of you, orange and yellow and bloody and raw, opening you up further to the open air. You squeeze him so tight he probably shouldn't be able to move and drag your claws across his back, but neither interrupts his noisy chewing. "Are you seriously just--oh my god--"</p><p>He swallows. Loudly. His teeth are stained and there's blood on his lips. Tears are welling up in your eyes. </p><p>"Tastes good, lil man," he almost purrs, and you curse at him as he buries his head back into your chest.</p>
  </div></div>
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